‘Yes.’ Tears glistened in her eyes and he could tell how difficult this must be. ‘It’ll help you understand me more.
‘I wasn’t lying when I said Mum drowned, but there’s more to it than that. When I was a very little baby, she had post-natal depression and suffered terribly with it. It sounds so clinical and you probably think she could’ve popped along to the doctor and got some pills and everything would’ve been fine.’
‘Cleo.’ His hand reached across the table to hers, avoiding the carefully folded cloth napkins on top of the place settings. ‘I’m not making any assumptions or judgements here. Take your time and tell me everything. Please.’
She nodded slowly but surely. ‘Mum had an easy pregnancy and a quick labour so it was a positive start, but the sleep deprivation crept up on her when Dad was working long hours to meet the mortgage payments. They lived in the country and there weren’t any other young mothers in the village so she was pretty isolated, she had no real support system. She went from being a new mother to an exhausted person she barely recognised. She even stopped going on her daily walks when winter set in and eventually, taking a shower in the morning became something dad had to coax her into.
‘Dad got her to the GP when I turned seven months and for a time she was much better. She’d befriended another mother at the surgery and they met up a couple of times a week for coffee, usually at the weekend when the dads could have the babies. The other mother moved away a year later.’
‘What happened then?’ He urged her to continue as she looked down at her fingers. He wanted to hold her close but sensed she’d be able to recount the history of her family much easier if he let her be on the other side of the table.
‘Mum seemed a lot better. She had a part-time job working in the local florist, I’d started playgroup, and they were trying for another baby. By the time I was seven years old the downward spiral she found herself in had taken hold. She’d had four miscarriages and each one was like a tiny little hammer knocking her further and further into that black hole. I remember we could be laughing and chatting in the kitchen one minute, or icing cupcakes with smiles on our faces, and the next it was as though someone had pulled a cloak across her face and the mum I knew had disappeared somewhere else.
‘Dad got her to the GP again and she was prescribed anti-depressants and for a time she seemed to be improving. We got back to our everyday lives. Mum and Dad never discussed having another baby again and Dad said she seemed happy with our little family unit. I was close to her. She collected me from school every day, held my hand all the way home, we went to the park on weekends, we’d walk the neighbour’s puppy whenever we could and she even talked about letting me get a pet.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Mum had never liked animals. It was a big development.
‘Dad found her sobbing her heart out one night. It was late. I remember because I’d woken up and gone downstairs to see what was going on. The fire had almost died in the grate and there they were sitting on the rug on the living room floor, his arms wrapped around her body, holding her and rocking her gently. I could see from the top of the stairs. They couldn’t see me and I crept back to bed. That was two days before she died.’
‘What exactly happened?’
‘She drowned, but it was no accident. I still remember the day. There’d been storms all over the UK and weather warnings and as soon as Dad saw her car was gone, I saw the fear in his eyes. For almost forty-eight hours we had no idea where she was. We found out later that she’d driven down to Brighton, our favourite holiday location, and she walked into the sea and never came back.’ Her voice caught. ‘Large tides and heavy winds meant she never stood a chance. She didn’t want to live any more, Dylan.’
When she looked up at him he stood and pulled her up too. He stroked her hair and she clung to him tighter than anyone other than his kids had ever done before.
‘It was hard enough losing her but to lose her that way was devastating. My family went through a terrible time. We all blamed ourselves. Even though I was only little I still wondered what I could’ve done differently.’
‘I know you’ve probably heard it all before, Cleo, but you can’t blame yourself.’ He watched her rummage in her purse for a clean tissue. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I worry I’ll end up like my mum, that’s why.’
‘I don’t understand.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I haven’t even told my Grandpa Joe or my dad this, but ever since that day and over the years that I’ve pieced together what happened, I’ve wondered whether my genetic make-up would make me the same woman as my mum.’ Her tears dried up and she was stronger as she told him the rest. ‘My ex, Aaron, wanted a house full of kids but I was petrified I’d either suffer the heartbreak of miscarriages like my mum or I’d have a baby and get post-natal depression. I didn’t want that to happen to me, to him, to any children we brought into the world.’
‘Oh Cleo.’ He shook his head. ‘And that’s why you decided you didn’t want children.’ His heart broke for her. To be carrying around that kind of fear was unimaginable.
‘Aaron thought I was being ridiculous. He said he understood but he didn’t, and he couldn’t. It’s hard to explain without sounding like a bit of a nutter.’
Dylan smiled when she did. ‘You’re not a nutter.’
‘I told my stepmother the night I went out for dinner with her. For years I’d made her life a misery. I missed my mum terribly and I didn’t want anyone taking her place. So when you appeared in my life, Dylan, I knew I could never be that woman. I never want to be the stepmother who kids resent or even hate, who they see as trying to replace the intact family they once had.’
‘Cleo, it’s an entirely different situation. Prue and I split up quite some time ago and the kids, well they got used to it. It was an adjustment but they’re no worse off. I’ve talked to them both; you know how mature Ruby is.’ He liked the way she smiled now. It showed she had got to know his daughter in the short amount of time they’d spent together, and that mattered to him more than anything. ‘Jacob is taking it in his stride too, and my only gripe with Prue in the future will be if she lets them down again.’
‘Do you think I’d fit in with you all?’ Her blue eyes looked up at him.
‘Perfectly.’ He kissed her softly on the lips.
When he pulled away, she looked past him, observing the table. ‘Hang on a minute. I’ve only just noticed. There are one, two, three… six place settings. If this is Christmas for me and you, who else is coming?’
He was about to tell her when her phone rang.
‘I’m sorry, I’ll just take this. It’s Dad calling from England.’ She pressed the button. ‘Dad, Merry Christmas!’
Dylan watched her, face illuminated in happiness, and he got up and switched on the fairy lights strung around the walls at the top and around the window. He switched on the lights to the tree in the corner and straightened up the napkins he’d accidentally knocked as Cleo told her dad all about New York and asked about his plans and Teresa’s.
‘I’d better go, Dad, but I’ll call you again tomorrow. I love you and I’ll see you soon. Not long now, I can’t wait.’
When she hung up, Dylan lit the candles on the shelf at the side of the room. It’d been bare in here apart from that lonely shelf, so it was a blank canvas for Cleo to see whether she could imagine opening her store here.
